


Parallels and Intersections

by Go_Fic_Yourself



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Deaf Characters - Freeform, Deaf Clint Barton, Gen, I promise this is actually a pretty positive fic even if the tags don't make it sound that way, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Loki, Rumlow is a prejudiced ableist bag of dicks, Self-Doubt, Therapy, adoption process, single parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4186059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Go_Fic_Yourself/pseuds/Go_Fic_Yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate story of how Clint Barton became a dad, fell in love and finally got his shit together. Mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clint slipped into the office while Phil was still on the phone. He took a seat on the opposite side of the desk and waited for Phil to finish. 

He didn't fiddle with things from the desk, or tap his feet or hum or do any of his usual waiting activities. He did straighten the cuffs on the button up he was wearing. 

Phil arched an eyebrow at him while simultaneously nodding and voicing his understanding to the person on the other end of the phone. He was sure the effect was something like a quizzical bobble head, but Clint didn't smile. 

"I have to go. I'll call you back." He waited for an affirmative before hanging up.

"You didn't have to end your call. I can wait." 

"Since when?" Phil immediately regretted his snarky tone. 

Clint shrugged. If the comment offended him, he didn't show it. "Since it's important."

"All right, what's on your mind?" 

Clint shifted in his seat and adjusted his already straightened cuffs. "Remember a couple years back when I broke my wrist real bad? Docs weren't sure if I'd ever be able to shoot again." 

Phil nodded. "I remember. It was during the Salsburg op. You didn't tell anyone that you'd never skied before."

Clint gave his best sheepish smile. "I did ok for a while." 

"Right up until the fractured wrist."

"Like I said, for a while."

"I still say it wasn't the avalanche you caused, Hydra let you get away because they felt sorry for you after seeing that wipeout."

"Because Nazi terrorists are known for their compassion."

Phil snorted. "Anyway, what has you thinking about Salsburg?" 

"Not the op so much as after. When they weren't sure how much function I'd get back, you said that SHIELD doesn't throw away its assets. That there would always be a place for me here, even if I couldn't be in the field." 

Phil leaned back in his chair, unsure where this was going, but fairly certain he wasn't going to like it. "I did. You have plenty of skills that make you valuable to SHIELD even without your aim. You would still have options."

"I- Well I think it's time to explore some of those options, Sir."

"Clint, is everything alright?" Phil looked him over and saw no visible injuries.

"I'm fine, Sir. I would just like to request a position that allows me to be based in a city and have, if not regular, then at least predictable hours. I realize that we need to be able to  
respond to emergencies, but outside of that..." He trailed off.

Phil was stunned. Clint had turned down several promotions in the past because they meant less time in the field. "Do you mind if I ask where this is coming from?"

"I finished my mandatory counseling today...from what happened with Loki."

"And they recommended that you be removed from active duty?" He went to his email. "I haven't received anything."

Clint looked uncomfortable. "You won't be. It isn't a recommendation, it's a personal choice."

Phil was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open in shock. It was probably made worse because this would normally have Clint crowing his victory over Phil's robotic programming, but he just sat there. 

"Clint, what the Hell's going on?" 

He scratched the back of his head, which Phil found comforting in its Clint-ness. "It's complicated. It's something I've been thinking about since after Loki and the Chitauri and everything, but I needed to be sure, so I wanted to wait until I had a clean bill of health from medical and psych." 

"But you hate psych."

Clint averted his gaze. "Yeah, turns out having an actual god scramble your brains with a mystic scepter from space changes your opinion on some things." He shrugged as though it was just another Tuesday (at SHIELD it was). "They really helped me sort through things afterwards. The guilt was the big thing, but...Loki showed me things. Things he'd give me if he won. Stuff I'd never let myself want. But now...I'm realizing how much I want them."

"You and psych are sure that this isn't some suggestion from Loki? Something he planted?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Like I said, stuff I've always wanted but never let myself want. So I decided that if these things are really that important to me, I need to start acting like it. That means giving up being out in the field." 

Phil wasn't sure he'd ever seen Clint so at peace with a decision. Clint was rarely happy with his choice for lunch in the cafeteria, let alone a major life choice. "What are you planning to do?"

"One of the things Loki showed me was a different me. I had a different life. A family. I don't know if it was real, something that coulda been...or I don't know...but I want that...enough that I'm willing to give up being in the field."

"I..." Phil trailed off, completely unsure what to say. He sat back in his chair, having leaned forward, drawn into Clint's story. "What are you going to do?" He repeated. 

Clint grinned, then schooled it into a subdued smile. "I started the adoption process. There are a lot of deaf kids in the system..."

Phil nodded, still mostly speechless. "Are you sure about this?"

"I've spend the last six months in counseling working through this. It's not something Loki put in my head. I've always wanted this. I just never thought I could have it. Or even that I deserved it. But I want a life outside of SHIELD. I want kids. And for the first time I'm in a position to have that." The grin flashed back and for an instant Clint looked much younger, like the nineteen year old Phil had recruited almost ten years before, though at that age Clint's smiles had never seemed real. 

Phil shook his head, still trying to process all of it, but finally shrugged and smiled. "I think it'll take some time to really sink in. I'm glad you're doing something that will make you happy, but I'm going to miss having you out in the field with me."

Clint huffed his usual self-deprecating laugh. "You'll find a new sniper. Besides, depending on where I end up you might see me even more. I won't be going on ops with other handlers or spending so much time in medical."

"Something Dr. Marsh will be exceedingly grateful for." Phil teased, knowing that the rivalry between Dr. Marsh and Clint was the stuff of SHIELD legend.

"Dr. Marsh loves me, he just doesn't know it yet."

"Well it does take time for Stockholm Syndrome to really settle in."

"I don't know, it came on pretty quick with you, boss." 

"I must have been broken before you got here."

Clint smiled, finally relaxing into their normal routine. "Must have."

They settled into a comfortable silence that Phil broke, saying, "Give me a couple days to put some information together on your options? A lot of departments are going to want you. I want to have an idea of where the best fit will be." 

"I didn't expect you to do all the work. I just wanted you to point me in the right direction."

Phil waved him off. "The department heads would eat you alive. You'd end up working for all of them. Let me look around and see what's available. Though I expect a lot of things will miraculously open up for you."

Clint shook his head. "You sure about that? I have a reputation for being hard to work with."

"Maybe you had that reputation, but it's been years since you've given people any real trouble."

Clint blinked in surprise.

"You hadn't realized?"

"No. I..."

Phil grinned, taking far too much pleasure in his friend's existential crisis. "Next stop, kids and a minivan." 

Clint got up, refusing to acknowledge the amount he'd changed since joining SHIELD. "I've got to go talk to Fury now. Let me know when you have the info?" 

"Sure thing." He assured him. "I really am happy for you, I'm just..."

"Surprised. Yeah. I have a feeling I'm going to be getting a lot of that." He smiled and gave a brief wave. "I'll see you later, boss."

"See you later, Barton." He replied, and Clint left, the door clicking shut behind him. If Phil spent the next ten minutes running his fingers through his already thinning hair and cursing how complicated his life had just become, Clint never had to know.


	2. Chapter 2

Phil wishes that Fury and Stark would just make nice so SHIELD could have a system like JARVIS and he wouldn't have to hunt all over headquarters whenever he needs to find someone.

Under normal conditions he would just send a message to his "network of spies," as Clint calls them (he's not wrong), but that would get back to Clint. 

So he checks the gym (the sparring mats specifically), the range and lounges A, E and L (her favourites) before ending up in the cafeteria. 

He finds Natasha there, huddled over a bowl of soup as though it's the last bit of warmth in the world. "Borscht?" He asks.

She levels him with a glare that says she still doesn't find him funny. "Tomato." She replies, the 'fuck you very much' is implied. Natasha /hates/ borscht.

"Honest mistake." He smirks, holding up spread hands. 

"Honesty is for children and fools."

He rolls his eyes. "You say that about everything."

Her mask breaks into a pleased smile. "How are you, Coulson? You have the look of someone who's gotten a little too much honesty for his liking." 

"It's an allergy." He deadpans.

"Explains a lot, actually."

Phil Coulson has the best poker face in SHIELD. Natasha has the second, but only because it was agreed that staring at your opponent like you're planning to murder them isn't quite bluffing (Sitwell comes in third; he has a face that makes it look like he's always lying). 

He doesn't use his poker face now, because what's the point of bluffing if the other player has already seen your cards? "I don't know what you're talking about." Still, that doesn't mean he's going to make it easy for her.

"Of course you don't." She eats a little more of her soup before continuing. "Just like you haven't been pulling your hair out all morning." 

"You can tell I haven't because there's still some left." He answers wryly. 

"Not as much as there was when you came in." 

Phil resists the urge to touch his hair. At this point it would be a sign of weakness. "That's hurtful, Natasha." 

She stares at him, conveying with a leveled gaze, "and this surprises you how?"

Phil shrugs and bows to the fact that he will always break first in a battle of wills with Natasha, which he blames on the fact that she acts as though she has all the time in the world (Natasha has been with SHIELD five years and aside from a few new scars she appears unchanged, whereas Phil looks in the mirror and sees himself age daily). "I hear you're going to be an aunt in the near future."

"Interesting. I heard you're going to be a step-dad in ten years or so, when you finally manage to get your head out of your ass."

Phil chokes on the breath he'd been taking.   
He composes himself and clears his throat, pushing himself up from the table and avoiding Natasha's gaze. "Enjoy your borscht, agent." 

"Yes, sir." She grins.


End file.
